
War Dog's 

of the 

World War 






Published By 

John I. Anderson 
New York 



Digitized by the ; intemet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library ol Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/wardogsofworldwaOOande 



War Dogs 

of the 

World War 




Copyright, 1919 

By John I. Anderson 

New York 

JAN -7 1920 



3W 

MY DOG >J7^A< 



I have no dog, but it must be 

Somewhere there's one belongs to me — 

A little chap with wagging tail, 

And dark brown eyes that never quail, 

But look you through, and through, and through, 

With love unspeakable, but true. 

Somewhere it must be, I opine, 
There is a little dog of mine 
With cold black nose that sniffs around 
In search of what things may be found 
In pocket or some nook hard by, 
Where I have hid them from his eye. 

Somewhere my doggie pulls and tugs 
The fringes of rebellious rugs, 
Or with the mischief of the pup 
Chews all my shoes and slippers up, 
And when he's done it to the core, 
With eyes all eager pleads for more. 

Somewhere upon his hinder legs, 

My little doggie sits and begs, 

And in a wistful minor tone 

Pleads for the pleasures of the bone — 

I pray it be his owner's whim 

To yield and grant the same to him! 

Somewhere a little dog doth wait, 

It may be by some garden gate, 

With eyes alert, and tail attent — 

You know the kind of tail that's meant — 

With stores of yelps of glad delight 

To bid me welcome home at night. 

— John Kcndrick Bangs. 
©CI.A5613S7 



To those who love 
dogs, those faithful friends 
of mankind, I commend 
this booklet. 

The Author 



War Dogs of the 
World War 



To The Reader: 

IN the city of Neuilly, just across the River Seine from 
Paris, lives a remarkable woman, Countess Mary 
Yourkevitch, a Russian by birth, French by adoption. 
She has for many years devoted her life and spent her 
income in the interest of the friendless horse, dog and cat. 
No provisions being made by the French Government and 
municipal authorities, these homeless dumb animals are 
left to shift for themselves in case of sickness or distress. 
She organized the Blue Cross Society of France and for 
many years has been the President of this Society. She 
secured grounds in a secluded spot of Neuilly and thereon 
erected suitable buildings for the housing and care of her 
homeless and suffering friends. Previously a social 
leader, she has during these latter years relinquished all 
social functions and thrown heart and soul into this com- 
mendable work of relief. 

In 1914, when France was drawn into what was to be- 
come a world war, she set about to aid her adopted 
country. Dogs of all breeds and descriptions were gath- 
ered into the Refuge in Neuilly. A systematic training 
school was organized to fit these dogs for war work, some 
for the Red Cross, some for trench work, and still others 
to become messengers to carry important documents and 
light burdens. It was most essential that a dog for each 
division of this work should be thoroughly trained, and 
after this was accomplished the work became one of 
routine and practice. The trained dogs became the 



instructors, and it was a stupid pupil indeed that did not 
become more or less proficient in the work set for it in 
the course of a week or ten days. To watch this training 
process is most interesting. A green dog, that is, one 
without any training, is attached by a short lead to the 
dog instructor. The command is given to perform a cer- 
tain duty and at once the trained dog is off on his mission, 
pulling the untrained dog with him. This is repeated time 
and again until the pupil learns the word of command 
and the execution of the same. It is but a question of a 
few days until the green dog has learned his lessons, and 
he himself becomes an instructor to some new arrival at 
the home. 

Six hundred dogs were thus instructed for their various 
war duties and sent to the front. The war is now at an 
end, and while many of these faithful creatures paid the 
supreme sacrifice, hundreds are left, some crippled for 
life, and all in need of proper care for the balance of their 
lives. During my three months' stay in Paris following 
the armistice, dozens of these dogs were returned to the 
Countess to be cared for. Knowing the burden placed 
upon her, both in a financial and physical sense, I am 
writing this story of the heroic deeds of these wonderful 
animals. Every penny derived from the sale of this book- 
let will be devoted to assist this noble work of the Coun- 
tess Yourkevitch of Neuilly, France. 



THE DOG'S MANIFOLD DUTIES AT THE 
BATTLE FRONT 

THE stories of the devotion of dogs to their masters 
under the most trying conditions of the battlefront 
form one of the epics of the great struggle. 

It is said that there were about ten thousand dogs em- 
ployed at the battle front at the time of the signing of 
the armistice. They ranged from Alaskan malamute to 
St. Bernard, and from Scotch collie to fox terrier. Many 
of them were placed on the regimental rosters like sol- 
diers. In the trenches they shared all the perils and hard- 
ships of the soldiers themselves, and drew their turns in 
the rest camps in the same fashion. But they were 
always ready to go back and it is not recorded that a 
single one of them ever failed when it came to "going 
over the top." 

The Red Cross dogs rendered invaluable service in 
feeding and aiding the wounded. Each one carried a first- 
aid kit either strapped to its collar or in a small saddle 
pouch. When they found a soldier who was unconscious, 
they were taught to bring back his helmet, handkerchief 
or some other small article as a token of discovery. Many 
of them learned wholly to ignore the dead, but to bark 
loudly whenever they came upon a wounded man. 

Not only did the dog figure gloriously as a messenger 
of mercy in the war, but did his bit nobly as a sentinel in 
the trenches. Mounting guard at a listening post for long 
hours at a stretch, ignoring danger with all the stolidness 
of a stoic, yet alert every moment, he played an heroic 
role. 

Full many a time it was the keen ear of a collie that 
first caught the sound of the approaching raiding party. 



And did he bark? How natural it would have been for 
him to do so! But no, a bark or a growl might have told 
the raiders they were discovered, and thus have pre- 
vented the animal's own forces from giving the foe a 
counter-surprise. So he wagged his tail nervously — a 
canine adaptation of the wig-wag system which his mas- 
ter interpreted and acted upon, to the discomfiture of 
the enemy. 

Often whole companies were saved because the dog 
could reach further into the distance with his senses than 
could the soldiers themselves. 

It was found that many dogs would do patrol and scout 
duty with any detachment. But there was another type of 
dog worker needed in the trenches — the liason dog, 
trained to seek his master whenever turned loose. Amid 
exploding shells, through veritable fields of hell, he would 
crawl and creep, with only one thought — to reach his 
master. Nor would he stop until the object of his search 
was attained. Many a message of prime importance he 
thus bore from one part of the field to another, and 
nought but death or overcoming wound could turn him 
aside. — The National Geographic Magazine. 



THE MESSENGER 

EARLY in the war the Germans realized the impor- 
tance of gaining possession of the French Coast of 
the English Channel, and thus cut off communications 
with England and prevent the landing of English soldiers 
on French soil. 

The Germans selected Ypres as the point of their offen- 
sive and the English were strongly resisting the drive. 
Men on both sides were being mowed down by shell and 
shrapnel. For many hours the incessant conflict raged, at 
one time the Germans gaining vantage positions but to 
give way before the bull-dog tenacity of the English. The 
strong reinforcements on the German side convinced the 
commanding officer of the English defensive that it must 
be a question of short duration until the Germans would 
achieve the desired objective, and they (the English) 
would be compelled to retreat. The situation was a criti- 
cal one and unless the English were reinforced, the day 
would be lost and the enemy would have a clear way to 
Calais. 

Lying four miles to the rear were two divisions of the 
English army ready to march to their assistance if re- 
quired. Quick action was necessary, as every moment 
was golden. For a courier to cover this distance of four 
miles and reach the commanding officer of the reserves, 
close to an hour must be required, and no one could tell 
what this hour might mean to the ever weakening defen- 
sive. A message was quickly written and a messenger 
dog called. The urgent call for assistance was placed in 
the bag attached to the dog's collar and he was given the 
word to go. Just twenty minutes elapsed from the time 
the dog; was entrusted with the message until the officer 



in command of the reserves had read the hurried call. The 
camp resounded with the bugle call "To Arms" and in 
ninety minutes from the time the message was des- 
patched, the front formation of the reinforcing divisions 
was in active work. The Germans were driven back with 
terrible slaughter, and the day was won for the English. 

An English journal in telling this story comments on 
the event as follows : "Who can tell what might have 
been the outcome of a victory for the enemy at this crucial 
moment." Hundreds of other instances could be recited 
to show the vital importance of the war dogs' work. 



10 



BIJOU 

AT the breaking out of the war there lived in the little 
town of Meru, twenty-five miles distant from Paris, 
a man named Jacques Thallant. He had for a daily com- 
panion a dog called Bijou, just a common every-day dog 
of the French poodle breed. 

Jacques was among the first to offer his services to his 
country and was accepted. He requested the privilege of 
taking Bijou with him and his request was granted. 
Jacques was sent into active service and Bijou soon 
accustomed himself to trench life, and with the soldiers 
shared their army privations. Frequently Jacques was 
placed on picket duty and Bijou was company for him 
during the long tedious nights of watching. 

Picket duty is one of the most hazardous duties for 
the soldier. During the day the enemy locates the picket 
posts and it requires but little practice for a sharpshooter 
to so train his gun as to do most effective and fatal work 
at night by shooting at random. A cold, dismal night 
found Jacques at a picket post with Bijou at his feet, 
imparting warmth as well as companionship. This night 
proved to be the last for poor Jacques, as my story will 
tell. A shot rang out — a bullet sped on its deadly errand 
— Jacques fell fatally wounded. His life blood was flow- 
ing rapidly, and his mind turned to his wife and children 
in far away Meru. He searched for paper and pencil and 
found in his pocket a letter he had that day received 
from his loved companion at home. Hastily he scrawled 
on the envelope the story of his condition, and with weak- 
ening hands he placed the same in the pouch attached to 
Bijou's collar, and in failing voice commanded him to go 
home to his mistress. In the morning Jacques was found 

11 



cold in death, still grasping the pencil in his hand. Search 
was made for the dog but he could not be found, and the 
record was made "Jacques Thallant shot while on duty." 

Three hundred and more kilometers covered the dis- 
tance between Verdun and Meru. Early in the morning 
of the third day after the soul of Jacques had passed be- 
yond, Mme. Thallant heard a noise without the house 
and hurriedly dressing, reached the door just in time to 
see the faithful dog's death-glazing eyes brighten for an 
instant, and then with a convulsive quiver his limbs- 
relaxed in death. On examination a bullet wound was 
found in his groin and then they knew the agony he must 
have endured in fulfilling his master's last command. A 
stray bullet doubtlessly dealt the death blow as he sped 
to do his master's bidding. For two days and three nights 
he dragged himself onward with the entrusted message, 
without food, without rest, true to the trust imposed in 
him, until his work was accomplished and then 

My old friend Hildevert Labrosse told me the story 
with tears in his eyes, and together we walked down the 
narrow street leading to the home of Widow Thallant. 
He showed me the gate through which the dog had 
dragged himself and up the walk to the house, and the 
threshold of the door on which he died. They buried the 
faithful creature in the corner of the yard near a shed 
where he was wont to sleep at night and where his ever 
faithful eyes could watch over the safety of his master's 
house. A small headboard with the simple inscription 
"Bijou, Faithful Unto Death" marks the last resting place 
of Jacques' friend. 



12 




Monte, the Picket. 



"MONTE" THE PICKET 

THOUSANDS of soldiers have suffered from shell 
shock, which proved to be one of the most trying 
conditions for the hospital nurses — nerves keyed to the 
highest tension for days at a time snapped under the 
whizzing and bursting shells which rained destruction in 
their midst. Horses frequently suffered from the ill 
effects of this trying ordeal, but it was a rare occurrence 
for the dog to be affected by these conditions. 

In the month of January following the armistice, two 
French soldiers appeared at the Refuge accompanied by a 
collie dog. This dog's home had been in Montreuil, a 
small town near Paris, and the soldiers had nicknamed 
him "Monte." For four years Monte had served at the 



13 



front as a picket dog. His nightly service was to accom- 
pany a soldier assigned to picket duty, and there through 
the long night he remained, ever alert to impending 
dangers. His keen scent and hearing enabled him to 
detect the slightest suspicious movement on the part of 
the enemy, and many a brave soldier's life was saved by 
his timely warning. The bristling hairs on his body, his 
erect ears, the swishing of his tail, quietly conveyed to his 
master the approach of the enemy. The whistling, deadly 
bullet was beyond his ken and fourteen times in six 
weeks Monte returned to the lines alone. Each time they 
found the picket either killed or wounded. 

After four years of this nerve-racking service, Monte 
was mustered out and returned with the two surviving 
soldiers of the original company. He was suffering from 
shell shock and returned to the Refuge as a patient. It 
was really pitiful to watch him in his sufferings. Worn 
out from physical weariness he would drop off into a 
light sleep, when suddenly he would bound to his feet, 
ears pointed and every individual hair on his body stand- 
ing erect. This was followed by severe trembling indica- 
tive of shattered nerves. 

I made many attempts to photograph Monte, but with 
futile results. I finally hit upon a plan to place him on a 
park bench and was partially successful in obtaining a 
fairly good likeness, as you will note by the above picture. 



14 




"Watchful Waiting." 



"TOBY" THE RATTER. 

OF the many annoyances and discomforts of camp and 
trench life, the rat is the most unwelcome. This 
species of the rodent family infests these places and not 
only becomes a pest, but a menace to the health of the sol- 
dier. Many a brave man has lost his life fromthepoisonous 
bite of these pesky and annoying creatures. Every effort 
is made to rid the camp of their presence. Of all breeds 
of dogs, the fox terrier has been found the most effective 
in the destruction of rats, and many of these dogs have 
earned wonderful reputations as "ratters." 

In the Refuge in Neuilly there is a dog named Toby, 
who has passed into the professional rat-killer class. 



15 




Toby, Ready for the Onslaught. 

During his three years' service at the front, four thousand 
or more "dead ones" have been marked up to his credit, 
and all previous records have been smashed. 

That the rat was not the only enemy that Toby encoun- 
tered during his service for his country, is evidenced by 
his gimp. A stray bullet snipped one of his front feet off 
just below the knee, and now Toby is listed as "wounded 
but not inactive." He is the most agile three-footed tyke 
I ever saw, and sets the pace for all the other dogs in 
their gambols about the grounds. 

The soldiers taught Toby many tricks, and on com- 
mand he says his prayers, rolls over, plays dead, speaks 
(barks), sings and performs other "stunts" that are truly 
wonderful. 

16 




Dick, the Guide. 



"DICK" THE GUIDE 

JUST a short distance from the Refuge for War Dogs in 
Neuilly,is located the Soldiers' Home for the Blind. This 
is a spacious building surrounded by ample grounds con- 
taining shrubbery, trees and flowers. Under the spreading 
trees are comfortable benches for the accommodation of 
the occupants of the Home. Hundreds of soldiers, ren- 
dered totally blind during the war, are cared for, and 
spend the days wandering through the grounds and en- 
joying the comforts that such conditions afford. 

For two years, Dick, the subject of this sketch, has 
served as a guide for these soldiers. He is a fine specimen 
of the French poodle, large in size, gentle in disposition 



17 



and perfectly familiar with the duties expected of him. 
Early in the morning he reports for duty, and from then 
on until the close of day he carefully leads and cares for 
the sightless subjects delegated to his charge. It is no 
unusual sight to see two men or more, arm in arm, being 
guided by Dick through various parts of the grounds. 
Sometimes you meet them picking their way through the 
adjacent streets, Dick always on the alert for their safety. 

I had on frequent occasions to pass Dick on my way to 
and from the dog hospital on Rue Chauveau, and in time 
we became great friends. Just before leaving for my home 
in America, I paid a final visit to my dog friends in 
Neuilly, and was surprised to find Dick in the hospital 
recovering from some temporary dog ailment. He joy- 
fully welcomed me as an old friend, and I expressed a 
wish to the Countess that I might bring him to America. 
She replied that Dick had certainly done his bit for his 
country and that it was high time he enjoyed a little 
of real dog life, and willingly consented that I should 
have him. The short time until my departure prevented 
me from obtaining the necessary permit to land him in 
the United States. The Countess generously offered to 
care for him until such time as proper arrangements 
could be made for his trip from Paris to New York. Be- 
fore leaving I requested the Countess' lady secretary to 
instruct Dick in the English language, so that he would 
be familiar with the speech of his adopted country. 
Shortly afterwards I received the following card from this 
young lady : "I told Dick a few days ago that his master 
in America wished him to learn English, and Dick re- 
plied, 'Tell my master to learn French, as I am a French 
dog.' " — a very clever reply from either lady or dog. 



18 




Leon, a Red Cross Dog. 



LEON. 

PERHAPS the most striking dog in the Home was 
Leon, a wonderful mastiff, who towered head and 
shoulders above his companions and was really majestic 
when strolling around the grounds. He seemed to realize 
that he occupied a position just a few points above the 
ordinary dog, and his associates seemed to think the 
same. Leon was a Red Cross dog, and his work during 
the war was wholly in the line of Red Cross work. He 
had been awarded the War Cross Star for his work in 
this capacity. 



19 



He is possessed of what is known as a "glass eye," 
frequently seen in the horse, but rarely found in other 
animals. One eye is the ordinary brown color, while the 
other is a light blue color, together producing a very 
striking effect. 

Only dogs of more than ordinary intelligence are fitted 
for the varied branches of Red Cross work. Not only are 
they required to carry first relief to the wounded, but also 
to report back to headquarters, bringing with them evi- 
dences of wounded soldiers in distress. When they found 
a soldier who was unconscious, they were taught to bring 
back some article of the wearing apparel of the man as 
evidence of his discovery. Sometimes it would be a hand- 
kerchief or his helmet, or in cases where these could not 
be obtained, the dog has been known to gnaw off a button 
from the unconscious man's coat and offer this in evidence 
of his find. Bursting shells and whistling bullets were 
wholly ignored by these animal heroes as they went 
about their mission. 

The following story was told me by Mrs. Rose Chilton, 
a Red Cross nurse from New Orleans, La., which illus- 
trates the surprising intelligence and sagacity of these 
dogs. "All day long a destructive battle had raged and our 
boys had suffered severely from the raining shot. Leon 
was busy here and there with his kit bag stored with first 
aid supplies. Frequently he had returned to headquarters 
for fresh supplies, or to bring back some token of a 
wounded man in distress. Late in the night he returned 
carrying in his mouth a soiled photograph. The picture 
showed a splendid young man in khaki. On either knee 
he held a lovely, smiling child, the younger about two 
years of age, the elder four, while at his side sat a sweet 
faced woman, with one hand resting lovingly on the boy 

20 



soldier's shoulder. These three represented the sacrifice 
the boy had made when he enlisted in a cause to make 
his home sacred and safe for all time to come. A 
searching party was at once despatched to bring back 
the wounded soldier. Leon, with unerring instinct, led 
the way and shortly brought the rescuing party to the 
object of their search. The boy had been severely 
wounded in the head, and was in an unconscious con- 
dition. He had evidently wandered some distance 
from the point where the accident had happened, as 
he was without a helmet and his uniform was soiled by 
mud and earth. Leon, finding no ready token for his 
identification, had torn open his blouse and from an inner 
pocket extracted the identifying photograph. Everything 
was done for the sorely wounded boy, but a few hours 
later his spirit took its flight to the unknown shores 
beyond. Out in the State of Illinois a widowed wife and 
two fatherless children mourn the loss of husband and 
father." 



21 




Wolf, Police Dog. 



WOLF. 



THE advisability of using dogs in the war was under 
consideration by the United States War Department 
for many months. Provision had been made for the train- 
ing of these dogs, and in fact many had been mustered 
into service, when a final decision was reached to elimi- 
nate their use. 

In 1914, just a few weeks before war was declared, I 
purchased in the city of Neuremberg, Bavaria, a fine 



22 



specimen of the German Police dog. The reader can see 
by the picture of this animal that he was by no means an 
ordinary dog, but one of the finest specimens of this 
famous breed. Wolf stood 28^ inches from fore feet to 
shoulder blades and weighed 170 pounds. 

Through a fellow member of the Police Dog Club of 
America, who had been commissioned by the U. S. Gov- 
ernment as official trainer, I had Wolf enlisted for war 
service and he was sent to Athens, Georgia, to complete 
his training. After the War Department concluded to 
debar war dog service, he was turned over to the French 
War Department, and in December, 1917, was sent to 
France. In June, 1918, I received a picture of Wolf, shew- 
ing him in camp in company with two French soldiers, 
apparently enjoying the novel experience of fighting with 
the enemies of his native land. 

During my stay in France following the armistice, I 
spent many days and dollars in my efforts to discover the 
whereabouts of my old friend Wolf, but all without avail. 
Great difficulties were encountered in locating missing 
men, and naturally my task to find a dog was much 
greater. On my return to France I shall continue my 
efforts and still hope to meet with success. When I find 
him — and I pray that I may — Wolf shall spend his declin- 
ing days in the enjoyment of everything a dog likes best, 
and when his days are ended, he shall have bestowed upon 
him a decent burial and the lasting memories of his 
master. 



23 




Huskie, Alaskan Dog. 



THE "HUSKIE." 

DURING the summer of 1918 I spent two months in 
Alaska, and while there became familiar with the 
characteristics of the Alaskan Eskimo dog. 

Travel during the long sunless winter season would be 
next to impossible were it not for these tireless sled dogs. 
Summer is their vacation period and they wander through 
the villages, camps and mountains, much as the ordinary 
farm or country dog, spending the long hours of constant 
sunshine playing and sleeping. From the moment of the 
first fall of snow, play and sleep, become — if a dog ever 



24 



thinks — but a thing of memory, as work is then the order 
of the day and dogs instead of horses transport burdens 
of every description. To the hustling Alaskan, a team of 
sled dogs is the most important asset in his possession. 

With the approach of winter, the armies of the Allies 
were confronted with a very serious problem, namely, 
how to supply the troops in the mountain camps and 
trenches with sufficient food supply. Motors and horses 
were alike powerless to overcome these conditions. Fall- 
ing snows and howling blizzards made the work of pro- 
visioning these soldiers an impossibility. Hundreds of 
dogs were sent from Alaska and Labrador, and these 
hitched to sleds loaded with food and munitions made 
their way through the mountain passes and over pin- 
nacles, relieving the threatened destruction of thousands 
by starvation. 

Ernest Harold Baynes, in the National Geographic 
Magazine, has this to say relative to the work accom- 
plished by these dogs. "One woman brought back to 
America a Croix de Guerre awarded by France to her 
intrepid teams of sled dogs. The occasion that won them 
that honor was their salvation of a stormbound, foe 
pressed outpost in the French Alps. Despatch bearers 
had been sent back repeatedly, but no succoring answer 
came, for the messengers were overwhelmed as they 
passed through the blinding blizzard. At last matters 
became desperate. The foe was pressing his advantage 
with dash and courage, and nothing but quick action 
could save the situation. So Lieutenant Rene Haas 
hitched his dogs to a light sled and started through a 
blizzard before which human flesh, in spite of the 'urge' 
of a consecrated patriotism, had failed. In 'sweepstakes 
racing time' they covered the trip down the mountain and 



over a perilous pass to the main army post. There twen- 
ty-eight dogs were hitched to fourteen light sleds, and 
these were loaded with ammunition. Back over the for- 
bidding trail they went, under an artillery fire, facing a 
bitter wind, and plowing through blinding clouds of 
snow. On the fifth day at sunrise the panting malamutes 
reached the outpost, their burden of ammunition was 
rushed to the gunners, and the mountain was saved from 
the foe." 

We must all agree that the "Huskie" takes his place of 
honor among the many other species of dogdom who did 
his bit in the World War. and if it is true that he is a 
lineal descendant of the timber wolf, we must even have 
a higher respect for this much maligned animal. 



26 



AN INTERESTING LETTER 

DURING my stay in France I wrote a number of 
letters to the press relating to the work of the Blue 
Cross Society of France, and in return received many in- 
teresting letters from America, and in many instances 
donations for the Refuge. 

One of the most pleasing was the following, which 
demonstrates the heart and spirit of the boys and girls 
of our great and generous country. 

Livingston Avenue, Dobbs Ferry, N. Y. 
John I. Anderson, 

Continental Hotel, Paris, France. 

Dear Sir: 

Your appeal for the wounded dogs now being 
cared for in the hospital in Neuilly, France, 
which appeared in the New York Globe, was 
brought to the attention of the children of the 
Presbyterian Church of this town, and they de- 
cided to do something themselves to raise a little 
money. 

Five youngsters equipped their dogs with 
white blankets and collection boxes and spent 
Saturday asking dog lovers to give something 
for the little war sufferers. When the boxes were 
opened they found $18.00, which I am forward- 
ing to you. A donation of $2.50 was made by the 
Dramatic Club of the Presbyterian Church, 
bringing the total to $20.50, for which amount 
my check is drawn to your order. 

27 



The children would very much appreciate any 
particulars which you can furnish them regard- 
ing these "little soldiers." 

Very truly yours, 
February 25, 1919. Margaret M. Link. 

This help from America has wonderfully encouraged 
the Countess in her philanthropic work among the crip- 
pled, sick and needy dumb animals, and it is her desire to 
extend the work to other parts of France, where ines- 
timable good can be accomplished. 



28 



SENATOR VEST'S ADDRESS TO A JURY 

A POOR man in the State of Missouri owned a dog, 
his constant companion. A churlish neighbor, with- 
out provocation, killed the dog. Too poor to prosecute the 
offender, the man was without redress. United States 
Senator Vest of Missouri was informed of the circum- 
stances and at once offered his services, without pay, to 
prosecute the case. The offender was summoned to court 
and the following plea was made before a jury of twelve 
men. Without leaving their seats these twelve men unani- 
mously agreed upon a verdict of a $500.00 penalty against 
the defendant. The following was Senator Vest's address 
to the jury : 

"Gentlemen of the Jury : The best friend a man has in 
this world may turn against him and become his enemy. 
His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care 
may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and 
dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness 
and our good name, may become traitors to their faith. 
The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from 
him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation 
may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. 
The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us 
honor when success is with us may be the first to throw 
the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our 
heads. The one absolute, unselfish friend that a man can 
have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, 
the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is 
his dog. 

"Gentlemen of the Jury : A man's dog stands by him in 
prosperity and poverty, in health and in sickness. He will 
sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow 

29 



and the snow drives fiercely, if only he can be near his 
master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to 
offer, he will lick the wounds and sores that come in 
encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards 
the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. 
When all other friends desert he remains. When riches 
take wings and reputation falls to pieces he is as con- 
stant in his love as the sun in its journey through the 
heavens. If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in 
the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks 
no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to 
guard against danger, to fight against his enemies, and 
when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the 
master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the 
cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their 
way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, 
his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open and in 
alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death." 



30 



THE SOLDIER AND "JIM-DOG." 
By Margaret E. Sangster, Jr. 

He wasn't, well, a fancy kind o' dog — 

Not Jim! 

But, oh, I sorter couldn't seem ter help 

A-lovin' him. 

He always seemed ter understand, 

He'd rub his nose against my hand 

If I was feelin' blue or sad, 

Or if my thoughts was pretty bad ; 

An' how he'd bark an' frisk an' play 

When I was gay ! 

A soldier's dog don't have much time ter whine, 

Like little pets a-howlin' at th' moon. 

A soldier's dog is bound ter learn, right soon, 

That war is war, an' what a steady line 

Of men in khaki means. (What, dogs don't know? 

You bet they do ! Jim-dog, he had ter go 

Along th' trenches oftentimes at night ; 

He seemed ter sense it when there was a fight 

A-brewin'. Oh, I guess he knew, all right!) 

I was a soldier, an' Jim-dog was mine. 

Ah, what's th' use? 

There never was another dog like him. 

Why, on th' march I'd pause and call, "Hey, Jim!" 

An' he'd be there, his head tipped on one side, 

A-lookin' up at me with love an' pride, 

His tail a-waggin', an' his ears raised high. . . 

31 



I wonder why my Jim-dog had ter die? 

He was a friend ter folks ; he didn't bite ; 

He never snapped at no one in th' night ; 

He didn't hate a soul; an' he was game! 

An' yet ... a spark o'light, a dartin' flame 

Across th' dark, a sneaky bit o' lead, 

An' he was . . . dead! 

They say there ain't no heaven-land fer him. 

'Cause dogs is dogs, an' haven't any right; 

But let me tell yer this : without my Jim 

Th' very shinin' streets would seem less bright ! 

An' somehow I'm a-thinkin' that if he 

Could come at that last stirrin' bugle call 

Up to th' gates o' gold aside o' me, 

Where God stands smilin' welcome to us all, 

An' I said : "Father, here's my dog. . . here's Jim," 

They'd find some corner, touched with love, fer him! 



The proceeds from the sale of this book are 
donated to the Blue Cross Society of France, 
For the Protection and Care of Animals. 
Duplicate copies may be obtained for 25 

cents each from the publisher. 
620 Broadway, New York City 



32 



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